


Someday This Pain Will Be Useful To You

by river_soul



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/river_soul/pseuds/river_soul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’d asked why only once in the infirmary, when she’d been pale and weak with delirium. John had looked distinctly uncomfortable, guilty when he’d replied. “We don’t leave people behind Elizabeth,” he told her and there had been an awkward moment when she knew they both were thinking of the ones they had left behind, the men that had died under their care.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday This Pain Will Be Useful To You

It had been a little less than a month since she was rescued and Elizabeth was still trying to readjust to being back in Atlantis. Things had been smooth at first, when she’d been cocooned in the infirmary under Carson’s care, finding her strength and the rhythm of life in Atlantis again. Then it had been about the aches and pains, the now of her life but since her release she’d been struggling to regain her footing. John had been an ever-present shadow, disarming in his charismatic way and always ready with an easy smile behind his worried eyes. He’d been in the habit of turning up when she least expected it and Carson had never been far behind.

Rodney’s visits had been formal and infrequent, he’d been awkward and stilted ever since he’d grabbed her on the hive ship in a bone crushing hug of pure relief with a whispered “Oh thank God Elizabeth,” against her cheek. John had simply touched her face, gentle and soft, so unlike him before his eyes had turned cold and hard in a way that made her look away. It was a stark reminder of the distance at which he kept her. “Come,” Teyla had urged, breaking their frozen moment with a tender smile. The feel of Teyla’s warm skin and strong body beside her own was almost enough to undo Elizabeth’s resolve. “You’re safe,” Teyla assured, understanding the importance of verbalizing that truth.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered as she realized that she hadn’t been entirely sure they would have come for her. She’d held onto that certainty when the days turned into weeks but her doubts were unexpectedly clear with their presence. She wasn’t sure what those fears said about her. Kate would know, could probably tell her exactly what it meant if Elizabeth had said anything of consequence in their sessions beyond the necessary.

She’d asked _why_ only once in the infirmary, when she’d been pale and weak with delirium. John had looked distinctly uncomfortable, guilty when he’d replied. “We don’t leave people behind Elizabeth,” he told her and there had been an awkward moment when she knew they both were thinking of the ones they had left behind, the men that had died under their care. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to sooth away the phantom pain of things past, but she found she couldn’t. She’d lost too much already.

“How many men did you lose?” _For me_ went unsaid.

“Five.”

“John,” she breathed and his name held all her guilt and the thankfulness she could not express.

“We had to Elizabeth.”

“You’re important,” had been Ronon’s simple reply. His presence since her return, in contrast to the others, had been muted, an unrealized image she always failed to catch. She was grateful. He was there when he was needed, a hand at her elbow when her legs gave out the first time in the hallway and a steadying voice when an errant memory of her time on the hive ship came during a debriefing. He treated her like he did before, distant but watchful.

She tried to thank him once, a quiet hand on his arm and tired eyes. “For what?” had been his response and it was then she realized just how different their cultures were. Like Teyla, he did not watch her with expectance and wait for her return to the patient matriarch everyone saw her as. They did not coddle her or weigh her down with worried eyes; they simply waited in silence to be helpful.

Things were simple and uncomplicated with Teyla. They shared tea and talked, not as leaders, but women. “You should speak to him,” Teyla suggested finally, warm hand resting over Elizabeth’s. “Ronon has spent time with them. He could help,” she reminded gently as Elizabeth watched the Atlantean sun swallowed whole by the horizon and realized she had never expected to see that again.

“Perhaps,” Elizabeth agreed, voice distant and flat as she listened the crash of the waves below them. They seemed loud and vulgar in contrast to the silence of space she’d lived with for so long. So much still seemed alien to her and she feared she would spend the rest of her life waiting for things to be normal again.

“It is foolish to push aside help offered when it is needed,” Teyla remarked after a moment and Elizabeth turned in surprise at her tone. “You are wise and strong Elizabeth, and there is no shame in sharing the burden. We speak as leaders, as women and it is time you speak as a survivor.”

Elizabeth found she had no words of rebuttal for Teyla and could only accept the younger women’s gentle hand upon her face and forehead against her own.

That night she did not sleep well. She lay awake in her room and felt foolish and young for the way her eyes skirted the patches of darkness and the way her heart twisted up hot and raw in her chest at the sound of the wind snaking through the spires. She was strong during the day, her fears and memories eased by the strength of those around her and by the thought of what must be done.

At night, she was alone and there was no longer anyone to keep her doubts from swallowing her whole. She felt the weight of memories she should have been strong enough to ignore pressing down on her and that wall between her nightmares and reality climbing higher and higher before her. She tried to cry out, but her lips would not move and she felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness as the shadows around her morphed and gave birth to the lithe form of the Queen.

“No,” she pleaded but her voice sounded weak and pale to her own ears. She could not shy way from the familiar clammy coolness of its skin between the valley of her breasts or banish the feel of the raised edges of the roughened flesh that she’d watch drain the life out of the men who had died to rescue her. She should have been struggling, moving and twisting because _they_ had fought for her but she lay still and quiet. She did not cry out for the shadow figures she recognized as John and Teyla standing at the edge of her bed watching impassively either. All she could feel was a strange sense of relief before pain bloomed inside her and she woke with a start, heart beating rapidly.

She stumbled out of bed, sheets twisting around her legs as she made a desperate dash for the balcony and fought down the urge to vomit. She shivered as the sheen of sweat from her dream cooled in the night breeze and struggled to gain her breath again. She wanted to cry, to scream and she wished for the comfort of strong arms like she had when she was a child. She was angry and ashamed and wanted to let those feelings strengthen her but they only brought about the memory of death again.

When she felt calm enough, she returned to her room, turning the lights on as she made her way to the bathroom to splash cool water on her face. She looked pale and ill in the mirror, hair wild and unbound around her head. She felt warm too, skin stretched over old bones as she gazed at the sharp scar on her chest and saw the Queen’s face and her own acquiescence to death. Her fingers whitened around the skin edge as she remembered what it felt like to breathe. She was stronger then this, she would overcome this. The expedition had gone so far to retrieve her, they’d torn apart half the Pegasus Galaxy to find her and she could not repay them in this way.

She needed to clear her head, to get out of her room, and Elizabeth moved with purpose then, slipping into a rumbled pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt. She left her feet bare, it was late and the warmed tiles were a welcome sensation as she moved quickly through the corridors and down to the mess hall. She let the pale light of the moon guide her through the sea of tables and chairs, unwilling to turn on the lights and give into her fear now that she had left her dream in her room.

The strong Athosian tea she made quelled the remaining nausea from her nightmare and the beauty of Atlantis at night spread before her on the balcony calmed her. This was home. The ocean would become peaceful and welcoming again and she would move on. Tonight would be the last time she would allow herself to be weak. Five men had died to bring her home because she was their leader, because they had believed she was worth it. John and Teyla, even Ronon had believed her return was worth the heavy price but Elizabeth felt a flicker of doubt underneath their reassurance. She’d felt open and flawed since her return and watched the underlying steel of her resolve turn brittle in the absence of the hive Queen.

She wasn’t sure she could send her people out to die and live with herself. There was a lack of culpability when things only came on paper to her and she could claim her ignorance. It was a luxury she no longer had and she realized for the first time with some bitterness that she finally understood John Sheppard a little better. It was not something she wanted anymore. Elizabeth had never thought of herself as naïve, never understood the way Sheppard and Teyla strove to keep her swaddled in the safety of Atlantis until now.

They wanted to spare her this and that thought warmed her more then their sudden appearance on the ship had. She felt some of the courage that failed her in her room return as the tea cooled in her hand. She watched the horizon lighten and remembered the men who had died for her and felt some of her old determination return. This was not about her pain or uncertainty but her peoples trust in her. Everyone had done their part to return her and she needed to take the last step she realized.

Elizabeth felt light again, somehow freed before she felt the air stir behind her and then it was gone, the warm night air chilly once again. Her breath caught and burned in her throat at the realization she was not alone. “Dr. Weir,” Ronon said and Elizabeth felt the stitch in her chest ease a little at the sound of his voice, at knowing it was him and not some phantom her nightmare conjured up.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” she asked reflexively before he could say anything, fingers white and strained against the cup in her hand in an effort to keep them from trembling.

She was surprised when he laid a single large, warn hand over her own. “I didn't mean to startle you," he said after a moment and carefully lifted the empty cup from her shaking hands and set it on the small, waist high table between them.

“You’re fine,” she told him with a tight smile, straightening her posture and pulling her shoulders back. She felt a sudden need to remind him, to remind herself who she was when she felt him watching her with a heavy gaze. If he’d been another man he would have turned away when she fixed him with her even look but instead he stared back unflinchingly. He looked expectant and for a moment Elizabeth wondered if Teyla had spoken to him. “I’m fine,” she said finally.

“Never said you weren’t,” he returned and Elizabeth was reminded of their very first conversation that had been built upon coarse, segmented words that reveled nothing of what the other was thinking.

_It is foolish to push aside help offered when it is needed._

Elizabeth heard Teyla’s words in her head again and she surprised herself when she started to speak. “I keep thinking about her,” she admitted and knew Ronon understood who the undefined _she_ was. “I have nightmares…”

“It’s natural,” Ronon said finally and when Elizabeth turned to look at him again he was watching the sea, strong hands wrapped around the edge of the balcony.

“Sometimes,” she started and stopped, thankful that Ronon wasn’t watching her. “In my dream I can see John and Teyla beside me. I could call to them for help, I know I could but I don’t. I just…sometimes I feel relieved,” she admitted finally and hated how small she sounded. “You lived for seven years under them, endured god knows what and here I am crumbling from a few weeks,” she admitted with a twisted half laugh, half cry and felt Ronon’s gaze rest on her. She felt ridiculous bearing her fears to him.

“It’s easy to be strong for yourself,” Ronon remarked after a moment. “I dealt with what happened to me alone, without the scrutiny of others. You have many expectations.” He told her and she turned to him in surprise, relief burrowing its way up her throat at the words she had not had the courage to admit.

“It’s not fair is it?” she asked with a little laugh, trying to smile past the look in his eyes and the way he spoke to her fears.

“Most things rarely are,” Ronon admitted, “but you’ll get through it. You have to,” he said. “You have to work past your guilt,” he added after silence had settled between them and Elizabeth realized just how much of himself he was laying bare before her. This had been him seven years ago, scared and afraid with no one to offer comfort. She wanted to reach out and thank him or touch him but she already knew it would be unwelcome. This talk was about what had happened to her, not an invitation into his past.

“I will,” she agreed, and when he turned to look to her she felt an unspoken promise taking shape between them. His face was still, brow flinty with some unwelcome memory their talk had conjured up. He looked young despite the sternness his jaw imbued. Elizabeth understood then what it cost him to give her his reassurance and couldn’t help the words that came next. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said after a moment, surprising her. Elizabeth had expected some resistance or gruff rebuttal that would have reopened the rift he had allowed to form between them but it hadn’t come.

It gave her hope that one day he would trust her to help him heal too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Also, new [tumblr](http://river-soul.tumblr.com/) friends are always welcome!


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